Friends in unlikely places
by kittgirl23
Summary: Running from your problems won't get you anywhere, but a new friend might... COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

Knight Rider characters copyright Glen A. Larson  
  
Friends in unlikely places.  
  
  
  
It was raining, it seemed as if it was always raining when he travelled alone. It was also dark, as night had set in. A lone shape travelled through the silent Montana night. He moved like a shadow making no noise. Keeping under the speed limit Kitt was cruising in silent mood to avoid attracting attention to himself. As unusual as it was, Kitt was alone. Michael Knight was not in his usual place in the driver's seat. Kitt was driving, or should it be said that his navigation program was driving. The AI program -if a conscience could be called a program- that was Kitt's main self, was curled up in the back of his CPU. He had disconnected all ties to the outside world, had shut down communications and deactivated the homing beacon. He was in Montana and travelling east, that was all he knew. He didn't know his destination, nor did he care. To anyone watching he was just a black Trans Am, perhaps slightly modified at the prow, but that was it. Even his scanner light was dark. "As dark as I am." Kitt thought. "For I have killed." And he drove on.  
  
Meanwhile at the mansion Devon Miles was just hearing the reports. He was shocked to the core. Michael was pacing back and forth in front of Devon's desk. Bonnie sat in one of the chairs. She was crying, had been for most of the night. "Kitt couldn't have known!" Michael stated for the tenth time. "It wasn't his fault, he tried to avoid hitting her, but even Kitt's reflexes couldn't help him this time, she came out of no- where." Michael sat down in the chair next to Bonnie's and continued. "I know why he left. He blames himself for this, even though it was MY stupidity that got her killed. God, this wasn't even a case, just a night out, a night out to have some fun." "FUN!!! Is that what you call this!!!" Bonnie had been crying silently up to now, but Michael's choice of words had woken her from her out of own hell. Bonnie got up and advanced on Michael. "Do you know what this is doing to him! Do you know what Kitt's going through! What you made him do goes against his most basic programming. It goes against his and every other sane individual's conscience. No wonder he has cut communications. He doesn't want to talk to you and for that matter, neither do I!" With that she stood up and left the office heading out to the garage to try and contact one of the most important individuals in her life. Devon turned to Michael who was staring at the door. "Tell me again what happened, Michael." With visible effort Michael met the older man's eyes. "She's right you know, this time I really blew it. Everything that happened was my fault. I just wanted to show off for once."  
  
Kitt had stopped. He had decided that he was a danger on the road in the state that he was in. He had pulled onto a small side road and driven it until he had ended up in a dead end. There he had plenty of time to think and be alone. The nearest human was approximately 13,89 miles away. He had accessed his exterior sensors only to confirm that he was indeed alone. Now he had shut everything down again. His power cells needed recharging and in a while he would be in need of fuel. He didn't care. Kitt accessed his databanks and called up the events that had made him do the unthinkable and take off. The files began to scroll and as Kitt watched them he knew something had changed inside him. He watched in amazement as some of his main programs rewrote themselves almost as if a virus was at work. It couldn't be a virus, for his backup subroutines didn't kick in. When Kitt realized that he couldn't do anything about the reprogramming he settled for reviewing the logs leading up to the resent events, trying to find anything that he could have done differently. The what if's seemed endless. Kitt played the logs over and over again.  
  
"We had a night off." Michael began again, explaining the resent unfortunate events. "It was one of the few nights off we ever get. Remember the one of the cases we were on recently Devon, the one concerning the street-racers?" Devon nodded absentmindedly, he did of course. Michael and Kitt had investigated a gang of street-racers that ran an illegal betting agency in Houston. The agency had been shut down and the leaders jailed for a long time. Michael however had made friends with some of the race drivers who had mostly been blackmailed into racing. The drivers had vowed to stay on the right side of the law from now on and had helped to put their leaders away. They were basically good boys, out for some money and a chance to drive fast cars. "So I take it this concerns them in a way?" Devon asked. Michael shook his head. "Not directly no. I had been invited to a party at a local race track that they had leased for the occasion. It was a chance to relax, enjoy some time off and race Kitt against the other cars. And no Devon, I wasn't about to revile what Kitt really was. As I said, it was a chance to have some fun. I asked Kitt if it was ok with him and he said yes. Anyhow we arrived at the small race track near the border of Canada. It was an old privately owned concrete race track which wasn't in the best of conditions, but it suited our needs, or so we thought at the time. We got there around seven. There were about twenty of us guys all together. Mostly we stood around the hoods of the cars going through their engines bragging each one of his own car. Of course I wouldn't let anyone near Kitt's hood let alone under it." Michael added at Devon's worried look. "At about nine we started racing. It was all clean, good sportsmanship racing, not at all like they raced in Houston. Kitt and I were the first to race against a couple of Fords and a Jaguar. The track was about a mile long and Kitt informed me that it was slippery with black ice in some parts. I wish I had decided not to race when he said that, but I had faith in my own driving ability and I had Kitt to back me up." Michael closed his eyes. He could see the track in front of him and felt the rumble of Kitt's powerful engine, the AI had seemed as eager as him to get on the track. "Someone had been chosen to start the race, as the flag came down all four of us accelerated. Kitt and I took up in the lead and headed for the first bend. I had told Kitt to keep his sensors on the road, that's why he didn't see her. It all happened in a spilt second. A young child, a five-year-old girl ran into the track right in front of us. Kitt took over and tried to brake. There was ice under his wheels and he couldn't stop. Kitt then sent the car into an uncontrolled spin but hit the child anyway. She was killed instantly." Michael met Devon's eyes. "She was only five-years-old! Her parents had been killed in street-racing when she was three. One of the drivers had taken her in and had raised her almost as his own daughter. Mack, the girl's adoptive father had introduced me to the young lady earlier that evening. Lucy loved cars and had grown up around them. Mack said he often had to physically restrain her as she had no fear of cars. That's why she was in the track. She wanted to see better. She had slipped away from her father and that spilt second no proved fatal. Kitt managed to stop after sliding for almost 50 yards. I got out and ran to check on the child. But then Kitt had already scanned her vitals and found out that his shell had killed an innocent child. He left and we haven't heard from him since." Michael's eyes fell. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have raced Kitt. He told me that there was ice. Why couldn't I listen?" Devon got up and walked around his desk to stand by Michael. He laid his hand on Michael's shoulder. "He'll come back Michael." "I know Devon, but will he ever forgive me or himself for that matter."  
  
He wasn't using slow-motion viewing, but Kitt experienced the tragic event over and over in his CPU. He felt the child hit his shell and fly through the air only to land with a thud on the track. He remembered bringing his sensors online and remembered Michael leave the cabin and run to the child. Just before he had turned and sped out of the track he had seen the child's adoptive-father collapse next to his daughter's body and scream "NOOOO!" at the top of his lungs. No-one had seen Kitt leave, everyone had been too preoccupied to notice. Kitt stopped the recording. "What could I have done?" he asked the forest. "I never expected anyone to come onto the track. I should have done something!" But try as he might, he couldn't think of anything. Kitt started his engine, heard the familiar hum of the turbines. Warnings of low fuel supply flowed into his CPU but he simply ignored them. He had to move. Some people would say he was running from his problems and getting further from the answers, but Kitt didn't care. He reversed and continued down the road. He was still going east. Further away from California, further away from Michael and everyone he knew. They couldn't help anyway, Kitt decided. He was of no use to anyone. He was a danger and it was best for everyone if he just disappeared forever. At least that way he could do no more harm. This way he couldn't hurt anyone again. Kitt scanned the dirt road. Useless.a danger.untrustworthy.I've failed.  
  
Bonnie had stormed out of Devon's office after chewing Michael's head off. She had known Michael was reckless. God, how many hours had she spent patching Kitt up after yet anoughter one of his crusades? Perhaps she had been too hard on him. He had seemed sorry, he was worried about Kitt and was distraught over all of this. Yet all she could think of was Kitt. Bonnie sat down at one of her many computers. She had chosen the semi as there were no mechanics around. She just couldn't handle their questions right now. She had to find Kitt. Wiping her tears away she set to work. Kitt was not going to make this easy for her. If the AI did not want to be found. Bonnie knew she didn't stand a chance.  
  
Michael had retired to his room after his talk with Devon. This was his home, had been for many years now. Yet he spent so little time here, that this almost seemed like anoughter hotel. Normally he'd be on a case now -with Kitt. He had grown used to sleeping in Kitt's cabin. That was the one place in the world that he felt completely safe in. He sat down on the bed. "Kitt come back, pal." Michael spoke into his wrist communicator. He knew Kitt didn't hear. The privet wrist com-line had been cut, when Kitt had cut communications. Getting up, Michael took a quick shower and walked outside to his patio. The foundation's black semi was parked right under him and he could see light flooding out of the open back. Bonnie, he thought. Would she ever be able to forgive him either? Did he even have the right to ask forgiveness? An innocent child had been killed.  
  
"Nashville, the home of country music." Kitt's sensors briefly registered the sign on the side of the road. It was of no importance. Michael likes country, a small voice said in the back of his CPU. He used to say that the words often had meaning. Couldn't hurt to try, Kitt decided. Accessing his radio tuner Kitt picked at random one station. The Gambler began playing as the Knight Two Thousand rolled to a stop. His main fuel supply exhausted and his secondary tank read empty as well. The voice of Johnny Cash rang through Kitt's audio system. Kitt wasn't listening. He shut down his systems and recharged. Three hours went by. Kitt detected and blocked several attempts of someone accessing his systems. Bonnie, he decided. He didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to be found. A car pulled up behind him. Surveillance mood. State trooper, he decided. Of course, he shouldn't be parked here. Kitt made an attempt to ignitiate his engine. Error35698: insufficient fuel. A bored looking female officer got out of her car. Stretching, she walked over to the driver's side window and attempted to peer in. Kitt darkened the windows and flipped on a new licence plate. Now, there was no visible way to trace the car back to FLAG.  
  
"Anyone in there? Move alone buddy, you can't park here." Officer Andrea Montgomery stated tapping the window. She had been having the most boring month of her life. Didn't anyone speed anymore she thought as she walked around the black Trans Am. Louisiana licence plate. She tried the door, locked. She walked back to her patrol car, picking up the radio she called headquarters. "Hey Gus." she greeted the officer who answered. "I got an apparently abandoned Pontiac here on the highway, could you run a plate check for me? It's a Louisiana licence BBC896." "Sorry Andy, there's no such licence in Louisiana. Could it be stolen, have had it's plates changed?" Gus asked. "I don't think so." Andrea countered. "It's in perfect condition. Someone's done a lot of work on it. It's slightly modified with some kind of light on the prow, that's not on at the moment. I can't see inside, the windows are darkened. You'd love it." She remarked to Gus who was as into American sporting cars as she was. "Anyhow, send a tow truck to pick this up. We can't leave it here." "A-okay, truck's on it's way." With a final pat to the black car's hood Andrea walked to her car and drove off. Something about the car bothered her. Call it cop's instinct if you will, but she swore there was something strange about that car. She made a mental note to go see the car in impound after her shift today.  
  
"Bonnie?" He peaked into the semi to see Bonnie hard at work on one of the computers. She heard Michael enter but didn't say anything. She had searched everywhere and still had no idea of were Kitt was. Signing she turned to Michael. "I'm sorry." She said quietly. "I was out of line. I know you're as worried about Kitt as I am." "Don't worry about it, besides you did have a point." Michael took a seat next to Bonnie. "Any luck?" Bonnie turned back to her computer. "None at all, there's not a trace of him anywhere. Michael, Kitt's never done this before, but if he doesn't want to be found. Michael, Kitt's a computer, he can hide better then anybody." Michael signed, "Kitt's not the kind who runs from his problems, he's usually the one who keep me from running away from mine." He turned to the nearest computer screen. It was off and he watched his face reflect on the clear blank glass, god he looked tired. Bonnie apparently saw it as well. "You sound get some sleep, Michael. There's not much you can do here. I'm monitoring police bands as much as I can, but there's plenty of states he could be in." Signing FLAG's main operative got up. With a final glance at Kitt's usual space he left the semi. Bonnie watched him go and turned back to the computer. Many states, many places indeed. 


	2. Friends in Unlikely Places 2

Tow truck. Kitt hated the things, but made no move to stop the man from hooking up the cables and pulling him onto the loft of the truck. He knew where the truck was headed, police impound. He had once remarked to Michael on just why he hated the impounds. He had said that he didn't like being in a place filled with criminal types, with bullet holes. "Just as well" he thought, "I've killed I'm no better then the others at the impound." The truck rounded a corner and pulled up to the gates of the local police impound. The driver leaned out the window and gave a short holler. "I've got another one! Come on Jim, open up so I can get home, weekend waits for no man!" A short stocky man lumbered out to meet the driver. "You sure you haven't swiped some rich guy's car Ed? That one looks mighty fine to be in here." Ed gave a snort and drove through the now open gates. He pulled up to an empty spot and skilfully deposited Kitt down. "Andy found it abandoned right outside town. Yeah, she's pretty, owner probably just ran out of gas. Bet he'll be mighty pissed to find that this beauty isn't where he left her!" The two men laughed and Ed climbed into the cab. Jim let his friend out and walked back to his "office" settling down with his coffee and magazine. Kitt had been left in the far side of the lot. He was not in direct sight of the security guard so Jim did not see the scanner come on.  
  
Officer Montgomery walked into the ladies locker room at the station after her shift that day. She had written the reports, or should she have said report, of yet another dull day at the office. She had also tried to type them into the computer, but the damn thing was having another nervous breakdown and as it was Friday evening the computer expert was no longer there. Oh well she decided, just as well. It'll be up on Monday. As she changed into civilian clothes and hung her uniform in her locker she thought about her slow month. Slow was good wasn't it? In the cop world, it meant everybody was behaving themselves. Still Andrea was longing for something - anything - interesting to happen! Her thoughts turned to the TA she had found that day, her only report. She frowned to herself. What was it about that car? It had almost felt alive when she touched it. Stopping for a minute to organize her thoughts she made a quick decision. She walked briskly to the bus stop and caught the next bus going in the direct opposite direction from her home.  
  
"Code 159357 alpha 3 sent .. access gran..DENIDED!" Bonnie signed. She had been trying to contact Kitt for hours now. She had tried old codes and new codes, codes Kitt knew and codes Kitt wasn't supposed to know. Yet all of them had either proven worthless or had been blocked at the source. Even when they almost got through she had had no luck locking on to the position of Kitt. That code had been her last possibility. For one of the few times in her life Bonnie was completely helpless to help one of the most important individuals in her life. Kitt was a computer she admitted to herself. He had grown beyond simple programming. Even though Bonnie was in expert in computer science she knew that when it came to fighting Kitt with her computer, Kitt would always win. She turned around and walked over to the sofa and almost fell into it. How was she going to tell Devon and Michael that she could do no more? Only if Kitt was sighted somewhere was she going to know where to find him. With that though Bonnie fell asleep.  
  
Andrea walked up to the rusty gate that lead into the Nashville police impound. She rattled it. "Jim, Jim! Hey, are you sleeping on the job? Let me in, well ye!" The older, heavier man walked up to the gate. "Hey Andy! Long time no see." He fished around his fully loaded pockets until he came up with a key and opened the gate. "What's up? Hey, I've got some real classics this time." Jim knew Andrea's passion for cars. Sometimes she would come to the lot and just stare at the cars. Other times she would bring her camera and snap detail shots. Andrea waved off Jim's almost non- stoppable chatter. "I'm here on business." That usually shut him up, as it did this time as well. He signed and returned to his little office and magazine. Andrea made her way across the lot looking for the TA, and stopped dead when she saw it.  
  
Too late, Kitt realized. He had let his attention wonder and now she had seen his scanner active. Once again he had been reviewing the logs of the accident. He had been so engrossed in them that he had not noticed his scanner come on as automatic surveillance mode had activated. Kitt decided that it would look even more suspicious if he turned off the scanner just as she had seen it sweeping back and forth. Kitt watched as the young cop's mouth dropped open and she stopped dead in her tracks. The only light in the lot came from a lonely street light some distance back. Kitt's scanner reflected a red streak on a nearby white Chrysler's side. Kitt's monitors came to life as he watched Andrea quickly recover and close her mouth. How could he have NOT seen her coming?!?! His surveillance mode was on wasn't it?!? Kitt ran a systems check, everything checked out, except for fuel of course. Something must be wrong, he shouldn't have been surprised like that! He thought back a bit earlier. He remembered witnessing the rewriting of some of his own programs. Could that have caused his slip? Forgetting for a moment his pain at failing to uphold his most basic programming, Kitt began tracing the rewritten parts of his programming. They seamed to be subprograms, of which he had no control over. Kitt rarely looked into his own programming since there was rarely reason too. Now, he had to admit, even he didn't know what some of those subprograms did. He was shocked to discover that. Perhaps.  
  
"Okay! That's it! Whoever's in that car better get their butt out here this instant." Andrea had been staring at the black TA for over a minute and had finally decided that behind those darkened windows sat somebody who was now busy smirking at having fooled a cop. She balled her hands into fists and marched over to the car. Squinting, she tried to look through the darkened windows. She had been made fun off before, but since becoming a cop she had quickly grown out of patience with that kind of jokes. Huffing to herself she leaned closer to take a look. Nothing, the windows only reflected her annoyed face. Andy walked around the car. Finally she gave up and leaned against the car. She was annoyed that the reports about it couldn't be filed before Monday. Somebody somewhere must miss a car like this. 


	3. Friends in Unlikely Places 3

"Devon, I need a car." Michael burst through the doors to Devon's office. "Michael! Don't burst in on people like that, you almost gave me a heart attack!" In several long strides Michael had crossed Devon's office and leaned on Devon's desk. "Devon, please let me borrow one of the Foundation's extra cars." Hope passed over Devon's face as he stood up. "Has Bonnie found Kitt?" Michael sank into one of the plush chairs. "No, but I've got to do something! I've got to go look for him. He's my partner, he's feeling guilty over something that was a freak accident. If there's anyone to blame, it has to be me!" Devon signed. It had been nearly twenty four hours since Kitt had disappeared. "And what are you proposing Michael? Are you planning on driving through fifty States? Come, be reasonable!" It was Michaels turn to sign. He hated being useless. Not knowing what to do was not one of Michael's strong points, neither was waiting. In his mind he knew that Devon was right. Bonnie was the only one with enough expertise to know where to even begin looking. But in his heart.he should be doing something!  
  
Bonnie awoke to the sound of a siren. Within seconds she was alert and had sprinted to one of the many computer consuls of the semi. Words, pieces of code began appearing on the monitor. They were some of Kitt's subprograms. The internal modem on the Knight Two Thousand had contacted the Foundation's computers as soon as it had detected the programs being changed to a drastic degree. Bonnie's mouth dropped open as she watched the codes. A new program was being written. Even with her expertise she couldn't tell what the program was. It took her a second to realize that Kitt was unaware of the fact that his modem had contacted the Foundation. This was a precaution that would happen if some of the Kitt's programs were changed and Kitt could do nothing about it, even if he tried. It would override his attempts to disconnect from FLAG. Bonnie set to work. This was the first clue she had gotten as to Kitt's location. She'd deal with the errant program later, now she just concentrated on finding Kitt.  
  
Kitt watched the young cop sit down on the left side of his hood. She continued to scrutinize him through his windshield. Suddenly she spoke to him. "WHAT are you?" She said more to herself then to him. Kitt suddenly felt a strong need to talk. To talk about what happened, about what was going to happen. Usually he did not revile himself to strangers for the world was not quite ready for talking cars. But he *needed* to talk and this young cop seemed to be a decent type. Perhaps she could help. How, Kitt did not know. But the burden of failing to uphold his most basic programming weighed heavily on him and talking sometimes helped. But for now, he simply responded to a spoken question. "I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand. K. I. T. T for easy reference. Kitt if you prefer."  
  
The effect was drastic. One moment Andrea had been sitting on the hood of the strange black sports car then she had unconsciously spoken a question she had been pondering herself, and it had been answered! She jumped off the hood and whirling around quickly looking for the person whom had answered she question. She saw no one of course. Finally her gaze fastened on the red scanner moving back and forth. "Who's there?" She gazed at the car. Without braking stride the car responded: "I did. I am Kitt. I am the voice of the microprocessor that resides in this car." Astounded Andrea watched the darkened windows un-darken themselves and revile the inside of the Trans Am. Walking to the driver's side she gazed through the now clear windows at the dash. "Kitt" Andrea tried the word out. "No way! I'm NOT talking to a car!" She gave a nervous laugh at the very prospect and glanced around to see if Jim had heard her. If he told the guys at the precinct that she was now TALKING to the cars at the impound she'd never hear the end of it.  
  
"I believe you are." Kitt responded. "My sensors do not detect anyone else in the auditory area. Besides you are not talking to a car but a computer that can respond back. "Where's your, um, driver? What were you doing on the roadside? Who owns you? Somebody DOES own you right?" Andrea felt the questions tumbling from her mouth. Swiping his scanner back and forth a few times Kitt responded. "Yes, somebody does own me. To answer the question about the place where you found me, I have to say I ran out of gas. I had to stop." "So, your driver went for gas. Isn't there a car phone in that fancy dash?" Andrea had to back up against one of the other cars for support. She felt like she was in one of those science fiction books that she liked to read. "I do not require a driver. I am quite capable of navigating this car by myself." The moment those words were out, Kitt was sorry. He was hit with guilt. How could he have said that! He had navigated himself right on top of that little girl. Another slip of the tough as it was called. Another thing that Kitt shouldn't have been capable of. He was supposed to process everything. Slips weren't in his programming. Kitt darkened his windows in shame. 


	4. Freinds in Unlikely Places 4

"Bonnie! Any luck." Michael strolled into the semi, but before he could finish Bonnie interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "Hush, come and take a look at this will you." Michael leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the monitor. Computer code was scrolling down it at an incredible speed. "Umm, what's that mean Bonnie?" Michael had never been any good at the technical side of FLAG. The code meant nothing to him. "It's Kitt, Michael!" Bonnie responded sounding awed. "It's the very essence that makes him. What you're seeing on that screen IS Kitt, well a part of him anyhow. Michael, something's happening to him. This code is new. I've never seen it before. It doesn't show up on any of the blue prints I have of Kitt. Michael watched the code scroll down. "Is Kitt communicating? Do you know where he is?" Bonnie turned back to the keyboard and started typing. At the same time she attempted to explain to Michael what she thought was going on. "This program is self-writing. It seems to be updating some of Kitt's response protocols. It's triggered by some action, but I haven't yet determined what that's been. The time it has started reads about three hours after Kitt vanished. This *new* program controls Kitt's reactions to certain things. It's highly complicated but I'm almost certain of one thing. Someone who knows Kitt designed this program. Or should I say knew. It's part of his original programming but it hasn't activated until now." Bonnie turned back to Michael only to find him staring back at her blankly. "How is all this going to help us find Kitt?" Michael asked. Bonnie signed. "It's not, at least not right away. The internal modem on the Knight Two Thousand contacted the Foundation as soon as it detected Kitt's core program being affected by the sub programs changing. I'm sure Kitt's now aware that the modem is connected. Fortunately for us, Kitt can't disconnect this modem from the Foundation not even if he tries. Eventually I might be able to use the Foundation's satellite to trace this link to Kitt. Perhaps even pinpoint his location." Michael took a step make to digest the information. So they had a link to Kitt, which was good. They didn't know his location, that was bad. Kitt's program was changing. How dramatically, or how it was going to affect Kitt, he didn't know. "If we're connected to Kitt via a modem, can't you communicate with him?" Michael's question drew a glance from Bonnie. "Unfortunately this modem is strictly one-way. It's used for information exchange from the Knight Two Thousand to the Foundations data banks. The other two modems are used for communication and two-way data transmission. Kitt has control of both of those modems and at the moment he has deactivated them. He still doesn't want to talk to us. I'm going to try and use the satellite to pinpoint the location of the modem and Kitt. It's gonna take a while." Michael immediately got the hint and turned to go to let Bonnie work in peace. "Bonnie, please find him. I want my partner back." Bonnie watched Michael exit the semi. "Don't we all." she thought to herself and set to work.  
  
Back at the impound, hundreds of miles away Andrea watched the car's windows darken and the car, Kitt wasn't it, grow silent. "How'd you do that?" she asked. The car remained silent. "Hey, now don't do this to me. You CAN talk! This is going to make my report SO much easier. Who owns you? Come on, tell me, we can get you out of here!" The windows slowly un- darkened again. Andrea leaned closer to the driver's side window to pear at the dash. She watched bars of red lights light up as the car responded. "I am owned by a privet foundation. Your report will probably get longer. There is no need to contact my driver or the corporation which owns me. They do not know where I am and I plan to keep it that way." Andrea blinked, now how are you supposed to respond to that?! The car sounded quite sure of it's self. "So you WANT to stay here with all these pieces of junk?"  
  
It was a simple enough question Kitt decided. He certainly didn't want to be here. But deep down he had decided he deserved to be here. Kitt signed. "No, but it's better this way." Kitt was about to say more when he detected the modem. Within nanoseconds he had determined that it was transmitting data to the Foundation. No! He wasn't ready to face Michael yet! Franticly he tried to disconnect the modem. He sent commands for the modem to enter standby mode, but did not get the response he had hoped. Quickly he determined that it was a one-way connection and that there was no way that Bonnie would be able to gain access to his systems through it. He had no doubt though, that Bonnie would use the modem to locate him. Kitt turned his attention away from the modem and back to Andrea.  
  
Andrea stared at the TA in astonishment. If she was talking to a computer how was it possible to hear genuine emotion in the words? "Better this way?" she repeated. "Why? Look, it's getting cool out here. Can I get in?" To her surprise she saw the driver's side door open on it's own accord. "Thank you."  
  
This was something Kitt rarely did. Allowed a stranger access to his interior. However his thermometer did indicate a drop of several degrees and he did not wish his newfound friend to catch a cold. Kitt switched to interior sensors to watch the young cop settle onto his seat. It felt strange having a stranger there. The weight was different, as was the height. Kitt watched as Andrea took in his interior. She gave a low whistle. "This is cool. Why would a car like you choose to be in a place like this?" Kitt paused for a while before deciding to tell her. "I killed somebody." 


	5. Friends in Unlikelky Places 5

Andrea had been fingering the gull shaped steering wheel. The car's last statement shocked her to the core. She withdrew her hand quickly and wondered just how good of an idea it had been to get inside this thing. "Um, killed how?" A video screen on the dash came to life. "Perhaps it would be better if I showed you." A date, time and location appeared on the screen. The cop in Andrea memorized the data. Next a racetrack of some kind came up on the screen. She watched as the camera accelerated forward. Suddenly she realized that she was witnessing events from inside this car. She watched in amazement as the speedometer on the dash rose up over 190 miles per mile within seconds of the start. Suddenly in a blink of an eye a little girl ran right into the track. A light lit up on the dash. Auto- cruise. The person who was driving lifted his hands of the steering column. Amazingly she watched the car perform an evasive move on it's own. But it was too late. They struck the girl. The view spun around a few times making Andrea dizzy. When it stopped Andrea noticed a second screen come to life. Vital signs came up. The child's -flat line. The film stopped and the screen went dark. Andrea stared at the dash. It was dark. Only a few diodes shined and a single light blinked on the left side of one of the monitors. "What were you doing on that track in the first place?" She didn't mean to sound so cold, but a human life, a CHILD's life, had been lost because of this car. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so hard. What I meant was, are you some kind of race car?" "I am not a racing vehicle. My driver and I were participating in an unofficial, but legal race. The track was rented for the occasion." The statement was spoken softly and Andrea could swear she heard warmth in the voice when the car talked about its driver. She considered the statement "The track was rented for the occasion." Her mind played back the video she had just seen. "How did that girl get there?" Her mind suddenly latched onto a detail, which she remembered, "And HOW did that wheel turn it's self when nobody was touching it?!?" "If you are referring to my steering column moving without being touched by my then- present driver, I operated the vehicle at the time. I tried to avoid the child. She appeared on the track directly on my route, as humans would say, out of nowhere. There was black ice on the track and I temporary lost control. My shell hit the child and at racing speed she was ." The car trailed off. Why didn't it just finish the sentence? Suddenly it hit her. It, or should she say HE was feeling guilty about killing the child! Guilt, remorse even, could a computer feel such things?  
  
Kitt ran a quick scan on the modem. The data transfer had stopped, but the link was still open. Bonnie must have figured a way to keep it open, or it would remain open, until somebody turned it off. As long as it was operating, Kitt knew it would be only a matter of time, before Bonnie would trace his position. He considered asking his newfound friend to disconnect the modem, but desided against it. Somehow it did not feel right to push away Bonnie completely. He had not finished his sentence. ".instantly killed." Kitt startled, he had processed that sentence, but hadn't thought to utter it out loud. Yet he was shocked to find that he had indeed spoken. Kitt ran a rudimentary scan of his programming and found that the sub programs that had been rewriting themselves had finished. There was new code through his entire core programming. It just had to have something to do with his slips.  
  
"You feel as if that was your fault don't you?" Andrea said to the now silent dash. "You didn't know that girl was gonna run out there?" The car was silent. "Kitt? Kitt." Andrea called softly. "Yes." The Kitt responded quietly. "Kitt, it was an accident! Even I can see that. And I'm a cop! Look no one's going to blame you for that. The child shouldn't have been there." She watched the place where she had seen the lights working when Kitt had last spoken to her. "The fact that it seems to have been an accident is not the point." Kitt began. "I have failed my most basic programming. I must not harm a human. In a manner of speaking. I have failed in my life. I am a danger to humans. I am capable of doing harm, of taking life. There is just cause for my being dismantled." 


	6. Friends in Unlikely Places 6

"Dismantled? Does that mean destroyed?" Andrea's breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she knew what she was dealing with. Her palms started to sweat. She remembered back a couple of years when she was a newcomer to her precinct. She was fresh out of the academy and had returned to her home county of Nashville to join the local police force. Not that she had wanted too, but her parents where here and they had insisted that she move closer to them. When a position as a Tennessee State trooper had opened up, she had sprung at it, eager for some excitement. Her first assignment had walked through the door on day one.  
  
- flashback -  
  
The main doors banged open as a middle aged man rushed through. He was holding a child's lifeless body. "Please! Someone help please! I didn't see he! I swear! He came out of nowhere." Andrea jumped up and caught the body of the child, just as the man crumpled to the floor. She quickly felt for a pulse but didn't find any. She met the eyes of sergeant Allan Bank. Gently she set the child down on Allan's desk where he covered it with his coat. Struggling to keep from crying herself, she knelt beside the trembling man. She had never before seen a grown man break down like this and was not sure how to approach him. "Sir? Sir, please get up. Sir, it's going to be alright." "Alright." The word was spoken softly, whispered even. "I've done the unthinkable. I shouldn't have, couldn't see." Andrea knelt down and laid a hand on the poor man's shoulder. "Sir, I hate to ask, but I'll have to take a statement from you." The man looked up. Andrea's eyes fastened on the man's neck. A white collar; the man was a priest.  
  
She had been the one assigned to that case. It was a simple accident. The child had slipped from his mother and had run into the street headed over to the candy store. The minister had been on his way to service. He was driving well under the speed limit but as the child had stepped into the street from behind a parked car he didn't stand a chance. The child's mother had been devastated as she had lost her youngest child, but didn't press charges. The minister's parting words that day had haunted her for many months: "My mission in life is to protect and nurture. I've done the exact opposite. How can I keep on living.?"She had watched the man exit. She had just witnessed a man of faith lose that faith. It was a moment she would never forget.  
  
- end flashback -  
  
Kitt was replayed his own words: "There is just cause for my being dismantled." He meant them, but he was puzzled. Those words were self- destructive. He had never computed such things. It shocked him, but the words had clearly shocked Andrea as well. She had lapsed into silence. Just as Kitt was about to ask Andrea if she was all right, she spoke: "Kitt, you're a computer. Can you access the computer within the police station?" Kitt thought about it. "Is not hacking into an government computer a felony?" Kitt did not see any point in doing so. Andrea grimaced. "I guess so, but as I do have clearance and I was only going to tell you to pull up a copy of a report I wrote years back. I'm thinking I can view it, since I wrote it." She did have a point, Kitt decided. Within seconds, Kitt had required access to the precinct's computers. "There seems to be a error in one of the newly installed programs." Andrea looked amused. "The whole thing crashed. I couldn't even type up the report on you! The PC-guy is coming to check it out on Monday." Kitt registered her comment and located and repaired the minor programming error in the program. "The program is now working fine. What report did you wish to access?" Andrea shook her head. Kitt had repaired the precinct's computer in two seconds! "Yeah, umm the case number is 270379/23. It was my first case. The clip that you just showed me made me remember it." Lights danced on the dash and a hard copy of her report was printed. "Wow! Talk about fast service! Hey, did you read it? Go on, see if it rings a bell." Kitt processed the data he was confused. "Perhaps you should -as they say- spell it out for me." Andrea gave a short laugh. "The situation that you're going through is no different then the one the report is about. The priest had the same misgivings and questions that you're facing. He didn't mean to kill a child. It goes against his nature, training, his very way of life to take a life. Even his training, his knowledge of there being someone forgiving up there, didn't help him. There's only one thing that can help you get through this. No, make that two things: time and friends. You have both." Kitt went back to the report. Victim: Jeffery Hill, age 4. Ambulance on the scene in minutes, child dead on arrival. Driver of accident vehicle: Father David M. Johnson. Type of vehicle: 1982 Ford Thunderbird Charges: dropped  
  
Time and friends Andrea had said. Was it? Could it be that simple. He did see the similarities in the report and his currant situation. Perhaps he should contact Michael. Perhaps he could make this right. Perhaps. 


	7. Friends in Unlikely Places 7

"That's it! He's in Tennessee!" Bonnie slapped her hands victoriously onto the desk. Several junior mechanics that had come to work on some minor problems jumped at her unexpected outburst. With a wide grin she whirled around and nearly ran out of the semi. Taking the mansion's stairs two at a time she burst into Devon's office. "I found Kitt! He's in Tennessee!" Devon seemed to have been up for hours, but that statement made his day. "That's wonderful Bonnie! Did Kitt get in touch?" Bonnie sat down on one of the chairs to catch her breath. "No, but the satellite was able to lock on and locate the signal. Now the only problem is WHERE in Tennessee! I could only get a rough location. That still leaves hundreds of square miles to cover!" Devon's excitement quickly died. " Hundreds of." He trailed off as the phone rang. "Hello?.. Yes, speaking..Yes, we do.. Oh.. Yes.. Of course, sir, we'll get right on it." Signing Devon put the receiver back on it's nook. Bonnie looked on and watched the elder man compose himself. With a quick glance out the window, Devon looked Bonnie right in the eye and said seriously "You'd better get Michael up here." Bonnie got up and walked to the door, pausing she seemed to contemplate what Devon had just said. It must be a case call! Whirling she turned to glare at Devon: "Was that a case? Did you just accept a case for Michael even though Kitt's missing!?" Devon looked up. Bonnie had expected to see remorse in the elder man's eyes, but she didn't. Devon met her gaze with the same calm expression he had always done. "I'm quite afraid it was. Though it isn't a new one. The police in Arkansas have a new lead for the counterfeit operation that Michael and Kitt investigated a few weeks back. They need Michael to look into it. The local police there are stretched thin as it is and the chief admitted to me that this is out of their liege. Bonnie." Devon held up a hand to stop her, before she had a chance to protest. ".they need Michael. They need the Foundation's help. We'll go to Tennessee to find Kitt, but Michael has a job to do." Bonnie sighed. "You're right Devon. But talk to Michael first, okay?" Devon watched Bonnie exit and summoned Michael on the intercom.  
  
"Has Bonnie found Kitt?" Those were the first words he uttered after rushing into Devon's office. He had finally been able to fall asleep though nightmares robbed him of peaceful slumber. Devon didn't even need to answer. He read the older man like a book. "What is it, Devon? What's wrong?" Closing a file, Devon looked at Michael. He noted the dishevelled hair and the tired eyes and wished to God that he didn't have to ask this of him. "I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is, that Bonnie has narrowed Kitt's location to Tennessee. The semi is being prepped to leave as we speak. And the bad new is, that you won't be able to join us. The Arkansas police have uncovered new evidence in the counterfeit case that you worked on two weeks ago. They're swamped as it is and you know the situation there." Michael's eye's registered disbelief as he realized where this was going. "You're telling be to go out on this case NOW!? With us this close to finding Kitt!? Devon, I can't! This case'll wait; it has for over a year, since the local police over there didn't believe the first witness! Kitt and I caught the guy red handed at the local press and he wasn't making the evening paper! What more is there to it?" A buzz signalled Devon. Pressing a button on his desk Devon acknowledged it, gathered a few papers and stood up. "Oh, it's more then just John Myers. Chief Harris phoned and said that Mr. Myers was very talkative and there seems to be more going on at that local gazette then any of us realized. I know it won't be the same without Kitt, but I have every confidence in you, Michael. The semi is ready to leave. I'll keep you updated on our progress. A reserve car has been readied for you and is waiting outside. God's speed, Michael." With that, Devon exited and left a quite Michael standing in his office. Michael watched the semi pull out of the grounds and head off at high gear to Tennessee. "Well, it's good you have every confidence in me, Devon. Cause right now, I sure don't." Michael didn't hurry to the Mercedes and actually starting it and driving off, to a case he thought he had closed, didn't appal to him in the least. He could only hope that Bonnie and Devon could find Kitt so he'd get his partner back. 


	8. Friends in Unlikely Places 8

"We have company." Kitt's statement brought Andrea out of her memories. Glancing up she saw the impound guard Jim scuffling towards them. Jim wasn't easily impressed and though he noticed Kitt's scanner sweeping back- and-forth, he merely considered it to be some fancy new gadget designed to scare off possible burglars. What did surprise him was the fact that Andrea had managed to get inside the Trans Am. He had tested the doors himself when Ed had brought the car in and had found them securely locked. Inside Andrea smirked: "I wish I had a camera! That look of surprise on Jim's face is worth a frame!" Feeling better by the talk that he had had with his new friend Kitt decided to humour her, he zoomed in on Jim's face and produced a hard copy for Andrea. Grinning, Andrea stuffed the photo into a pocket and opened the door. "How'd you. when. how.?" Jim gaped at Andrea. "And those windows! Andy, I couldn't see inside that thing. I swear." Waving Jim's sputtering aside Andrea closed Kitt's door. "Jim, I'm gonna ask you to do something for me, it might sound crazy, but you just have to trust me on this one." Turning to Kitt, she added: "And you have to trust me as well." Jim frowned: "Who are you talking to, Andy?" Andrea grabbed Jim's arm and began to pull him away from Kitt. She had sensed that Kitt didn't want everybody knowing what he was, and with Jim being the blabbermouth that he was. Turning to face Jim Andrea deposited herself between Jim and Kitt. She had dragged him halfway across the impound yard and though she didn't know how far Kitt could follow a conversation from she decided to risk it. Taking a breath she knew what she was about to do was illegal. She could get kicked off the force if anyone found out. But in her heart she knew it was the right thing to do. But she'd need Jim's help, or rather his silence to pull it off.  
  
Kitt watched Andrea pull the reluctant man away from him and appreciated the fact that she had not reviled his existence. He could have listened to their conversation, but he didn't. She had asked him to trust her on what she was about to do. Almost as following an instinct that told him, that she was going to help him, Kitt put his trust in a kind stranger whom he had met at the most unlikely of places. 


	9. Friends in Unlikely Places 9

"Jim, I'm gonna pop over the gas station over there. Do you have a canister of some kind that I could borrow?" Jim's gaze travelled over to the other side of the street directly across from the impound yard. The "OPEN 24h"- sign flickered on and off and on again in the early morning sunshine. Andrea had been here for hours already. "Sure, there's a five gallon canister behind my office. Andy. I know that look! What are you planning?" Andrea's grin disappeared replaced by a determined look. "I'm planning to go over to that gas station, fill that canister of yours with some high grade fuel, pour it into that Pontiac and return it to it's owner." Jim opened his mouth, but before he could break into a litany of just why she shouldn't do that Andrea continued: "Look Jim, we've known each other for some years right? You trust me right? So trust me this one time. I KNOW what I'm doing. Tomorrow may be too late. That car doesn't belong here." She stopped herself as she realized that she was rambling and a blank look had settled on Jim's face. He had no idea what she was talking about. Closing her eyes Andrea took a deep breath. "I have to help a friend, Jim. I know it's not by the book, but I need that car to do it. All you have to do is give me the key to that gate and look the other way. If I get caught -which I won't- I'll say I made you do it." Jim grabbed Andrea by the shoulders: "Andy! Stop talking! I can see this is important to you. By God, I don't understand why, but listen. Have you typed the reports on the car?" Andrea shook her head. "Okay, see I was kinda busy with my other work." Jim patted the rolled up magazine in his back pocket. ".and I forgot to write the impound paper-pile-crap on that thing, so it doesn't exist here, not yet. If you know the owner of that beauty and want to return it, I won't stand in your way. Besides that's just on more paper I won't have to write and I sure won't regret that! Just don't drive off into the sunset with that set of wheels. The force couldn't stand losing you." With that he gave Andrea's shoulders a small shake, walked to the gate and opened the lock. Turning he began whistling to himself as he walked into his small guard post he liked to call his office. Andrea watched her friend walk into his small room and settle down with his ever-present magazine. He looked up and winked at her. She mouthed "Thank you" to him and slipped out through the gate. Andrea crossed the road, filled the canister with premium grade fuel, paid and slipped back into the impound yard. From far away she could see the red scanner moving slowly back-and-forth as if Kitt were deep in thought. Smiling she walked to the TA. "So do you run on rocket fuel or well regular unleaded do?" Kitt scanned the inside of the canister and found five gallons of premium grade petrol. "Is that for me? Why?" Andrea circled the car trying to find the gas flap. "Of course it's for you. I don't run on unleaded. As for why. we're gonna take a drive my newfound-automotive-friend. Now WHERE can I pour this?" Kitt's licence plate popped out. Carefully Andrea poured the fuel into Kitt's tank. Andrea opened the door and sat down in the driver's seat. "I want you to see something that could help you Kitt. No reports have been written about you, so you don't exist in this impound. It's daybreak and he should be there today. Sooo. let's get moving shall we?" Kitt was confused. He understood that technically reports that should have been written about him apparently hadn't been written. His newfound friend Andrea seemed determined to show him something. "Trust me." She had said. Though talking with Andrea, reading about someone else who had gone through what he was going through had helped ease his guilt about killing the child, Kitt could not bring himself to contact Michael or the Foundation. Andrea had been helpful so far. Kitt did trust her. Calling up the appropriate programs Kitt ignitiated his turbine engine. It felt good feel the fuel moving through his engine. Switching to normal cruise, Kitt relinquished control to Andrea. "Since you seem to know where we are going, please drive. I do not consider myself an adequate driver after what I did." Andrea lifted her hands to the gull-shaped wheel and applied gentle pressure on the accelerator. The Knight Industries Two Thousand left the impound yard behind and headed west. 


	10. Friends in Unlikely Places 10

The highway stretched out as far as the eye could see. There were very few cars on it and at the moment save for a big semi headed east there were no cars to be seen. Jet black with a gold knight-chess piece insignia the rig roared through states keeping just under the speed limit but trying to get to it's destination as fast as possible. In the trailer Devon went through reports that were mundane but necessary. His heart just wasn't in them though. Bonnie had questioned his judgement on sending Michael out on a case without Kitt. Personally he agreed with her, professionally he knew he had done the right thing. This case was too important, people's lives where at stake. Devon knew that deep inside Michael also knew this and despite his arguments he also knew that Devon was right. Devon snapped out of his thoughts only to find he had continued to sign papers without even reading them first. Sighing he pushed the papers aside. Bonnie sat at one of the terminals. She looked tired but had grim determination evident in her face. Devon's gaze wondered to the end of the semi, to the place Kitt usually occupied. It wasn't like Kitt to vanish like this. Or was it? Devon didn't like to admit it, but he didn't "know" Kitt as well as he should. He knew the Knight Industries Two Thousand, the modified Pontiac frame, but the AI. Closing his eyes just for a second, Devon made a silent wish to get to know Kitt better if, no WHEN he corrected himself they found him.  
  
The model 380 Mercedes headed down the highway at a relative crawl. At least that's what it felt like to Michael. He was pushing the sporting Mercedes to it's limit and to anyone else the speed would have seemed dangerously fast, but to Michael who was used to Kitt's speeds it was indeed a crawl. Michael had not stopped since leaving California save to fill up. He was worried sick about Kitt. The radio kept up a steady stream of noise but he really missed Kitt and their conversations together. Watching the white line fly past he realized just how lonely this job would be, if not for Kitt. Glancing down at his car phone he tried to will it to ring. He knew the semi was nowhere near Tennessee. They had left at about the same time, Michael about a half and hour after the semi. He had passed it long ago and been acknowledged with a flash of the big truck's fog- lights. To give himself something to occupy his mind he started reviewing his case.  
  
A young lady had contacted the Foundation concerning shady activities at the local gazette. During business hours she managed the press. She had gotten suspicious after finding the machines messed with. The Staton City Gazette was a small town newspaper and as she was the only one with the training to run the press machines and know when they had been tampered with no-one believed her when she suspected that someone other then her was using the press. The local police where busy with an onset of two gangs fighting for territory. For small town sheriffs this gang fighting occupied all their man-hours. The police had dusted for fingerprints and gone through their routine but had come up with nothing. She had requested surveillance, but after two nights of that the police decided to go back to "real" work and leave Miss Brandon to look after her press. Her boss Mr. Myers bluntly accused her of making up the whole story of the press being used at night. John Myers had never liked her, but couldn't very well fire her as who else would make the paper? A discouraged Joyce went back to her job, but found bits and pieces of evidence every now and then that the press was indeed being used by someone else as well. Some months after the local police had shrugged the case off, Joyce Brandon decided to take matters into her own hands. Joyce hired a car and parked across the street from the press. When she saw Myers head into the building at one o'clock she knew something was diffidently wrong. Hours passed and a Chevy pulled up. A briefcase changed hands. Joyce had been a timid woman all her life and this was no different. She knew she was well out of her liege and she had contacted FLAG. After chatting with Joyce Michael took the burden of surveillance. For almost a week nothing happened. Michael had not spoken to John Myers for the fear of scaring him off. He simply waited with Kitt night after night knowing that if something was up Myers was sure to revile himself sooner or later. Six nights later Myers' Oldsmobile pulled up. Kitt woke Michael to watch. Kitt taped into some small surveillance cameras that Michael had installed and they both watched in amazement as Myers expertly changed the inks and plates of the press and begun to print dollars, hundreds and hundreds of them. After several hours he replaced his inks with the press' own and left, carrying a fresh set of brand new dollar bills. Now the only question remained: Who where the people in the Chevy that Joyce had seen? Three weeks later there was still no sign of the Chevy though Myers had visited the press nearly every other day. New cases demanded Michael's attention and they decided to catch Myers. Perhaps he would revile the mysterious men in the Chevy. The evidence now firmly locked in Kitt's memory banks, Michael snuck inside and confronted Myers. Myers panicked, grabbed one of the ink trays and hurtled it right at Michael. Temporarily blinded Michael contacted Kitt who blocked Myers' escape. The police were called in and they took John Myers in for questioning and a very lengthy jail sentence. Joyce had assumed command of the entire Gazette and had treated Michael out to a privet dinner to thank him for clearing her name as a liar.  
  
Now Myers had apparently been quite the little bird with the police. Devon had handed him the reports but Michael hadn't had time to read them. In fact they were sitting in the passenger side seat right now. He glanced at them. Usually Bonnie would have downloaded the data into Kitt's databanks and Kitt would fill him in providing more information as it was needed. Now Michael was on his own and as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't have a very good feeling about this case at all. 


	11. Friends in Unlikely Places 11

Saturday morning was breaking with clear skies and a warm Tennessee sun. Andrea drove Kitt down street after street. She drove with a steady hand being careful not to make any sudden moves for the fear of scaring Kitt. Not much was said between them nor had Kitt been able to give an answer to her question of why he had driven himself down that highway where she had found him but now had decided he couldn't drive. Andrea had quickly grown used to thinking of Kitt as someone recovering from shock and not just a computer on wheels. Turning just off the highway she parked Kitt across the road from a small town church. "We're here."  
  
Kitt scanned the church. Even though it was Saturday morning and no the more usual Sunday the church was quickly filling up. But the people who were coming to this service were very special. Almost everyone relied on a wheelchair or crutches. Most walked with a limp and some used a cane. And on top of that, most of the participates were children. Kitt was confused as to why they had come here. Andrea tapped his dash. "You see that man greeting the children? Over there, by the doors." Kitt focused his attention on a priest who was greeting a young girl in a motorized wheelchair. The child's eyes sparkled as the Father said something to her. The girl and her mother moved inside the church. Kitt watched as a group of young boys were shepherded towards the church by two women. Even though the boys relied on crutches and canes to walk they kept pushing each other playfully completely ignoring the commands of the two adults. The priest walked up to the boys, said something and the boys all started to laugh. Then they filed calmly into the church. More and more children continued to arrive and by nine the church was packed. As the last child was ushered inside the middle-aged priest closed the doors taking a few strands of sunshine inside the old church. Kitt turned his attention back to Andrea who seemed to be lost in thought. "Andrea." the Boston accent "Andrea. Why are we here?"  
  
Andrea awoke from her memories. She hadn't seen Father Johnson in ages. She had checked up on him about a year after the accident and had nearly leapt for joy to have found how he had coped. She hadn't approached him for the fear of opening old scars. But she did know that he had indeed regained his faith and now was back to helping others. "We're here because I wanted to show you something, or should I say someone. The priest you saw was Father David Johnson. My first case. I wanted to let you see that he did get over the death of that little boy. Not only did he get over it, but also he managed to make something good come out of the tragedy. All those children in the church have fallen victim to some form of accident that has left them permanently crippled. A couple of months after his own accident Father Johnson set up a trust fund: The Jeffery Hill Trust. The money come from charity and is used to help children who have been in some kind of accident. The trust will help with medical expenses but also some money is used to take the children on trips to help take their minds off their disabilities. Two times a month, on Saturdays like this one, Father Johnson holds a special service for the children and their families. He really spends time with the kids, getting to know them, talking with them. More then the money that the charity donates, it's Father Johnson that the kids come out to see over and over again."  
  
Kitt listened to Andrea. Listened and processed her words. "Do the children know that Father Johnson has been responsible for the death of a child?" At Andrea's nod Kitt continued quietly. "Don't they fear him?"  
  
Fear, resentment. She had been waiting for that question. "No, Kitt. Not anymore. In the first sermon that he held, he told the congregation his story. He knew that there were children in the pews who had been run over and who might consider him the enemy. I don't know how the sermon went, but after that he's taken to healing the emotional wounds of the children perhaps without realizing that they are doing the same for him."  
  
Kitt was silent for a long time. He was beginning to see why Andrea had brought him here. He was even starting to heal, even to forgive himself. The opening of the church's twin doors caught Kitt's attention. Children and their parents filed out with smiles on their faces. Each and every one stopped to exchange a word or two with Father Johnson. Most of the children hugged him, even some of the teenagers. Andrea opened the door. "I'll be back in a bit Kitt. I think it's time I went to give that man a hug myself." Kitt tracked Andrea as she walked the steps to Father Johnson. "Hey! You're cool!" Kitt focused his attention on his new admirer. The little girl in the motorized wheelchair that he had seen enter the church earlier had come up un-noticed right in front of him. She leaned down to touch the scanner. Kitt had almost gotten used to being surprised like that. He scanned the child. Injury to the spinal column. Paralysed. She was running her had in sync with his scanner. "Thank you." Kitt stated. Expecting the child to be scared he continued. "You seem to like my scanner." The child wasn't the least bit surprised by the black car talking. "Yeah, I sure do! My name's Carrie and this..." She patted the arm of her wheelchair, ".is Silver. As in Roy Roger's horse." Kitt was surprised that she had named her chair. "I am called Kitt." Carrie tested the name. "Kitt. Why are you here? Have you come to see Father Johnson too? Why do you need wheels? Do you have a broken back like me?" Kitt was surprised. She sounded just like any other child asking questions. She didn't seem to regret being tied to a wheelchair but had introduced the chair almost as a friend. "In a way I am here to see Father Johnson. I don't have a broken back, because as a car I have no back to break. I need my wheels, just as you do, to get around." She giggled at that. "I wish Silver could talk. And have a cool light like you do!" "Carrie, honey! Come on, it's time to go home." Carrie glanced behind her. "Alright mom. Just a sec." Turning to back to Kitt, she smiled. "I gotta go. But go see Father Johnson. He's a great guy. Mom says he taught me how not to be angry anymore. I'm not sure what she means, but I guess she's right." With that she turned her chair and joined her mom at their van. Kitt turned his attention towards Andrea and Father Johnson just in time to see Andrea give the priest a hug.  
  
"Father Johnson has really made a difference with these children. He really has turned his experience around. In a way he knows how these children feel. He has a unique perspective on things. Now I see why Andrea wanted me to see this!" For the first time in two days Kitt was happy. He allowed Andrea entry into the drivers seat. She was smiling as well. Before Andrea had a chance to speak, Kitt spoke up. "Thank you." Andrea glanced down at the voice box. "For what?" With a roar Kitt brought the engine online. "For showing me that this isn't the end of the world and I still have a duty to do." Auto-cruise lit up and Andrea threw up her arms and gave a whoop of excitement as Kitt pulled from the curb, just in time to see the FLAG semi roar past. 


	12. Friends in Unlikely Places 12

Michael pulled the Mercedes into a parking spot marked "Employees only" in front of the Staton Gazette Press. Though it was a Saturday he could see Joyce at work with the press. A man was with her. Getting up Michael took in the morning sunshine for a while then walked into the building. Neither Joyce nor the man heard him enter over the hum of the machines. Joyce seemed to be showing the man how to use the press. "She must have hired help." Michael thought to himself then raising his voice to be heard over the machines he called out to Joyce: "PRESSed for time are we?" Joyce spun around and upon seeing Michael ran up to give him a hug. "Michael! Devon told me you were coming back. I didn't think you'd come by here though. This press is squeaky clean of crime from now on." Michael smiled. "I am on my way to see sheriff Harris, I just wanted to drop by to say hello." Joyce looked out the window. "Did you bring Kitt? I think I'll go say hi." She was just about to leave when Michael caught her arm. "I came alone. Kitt. Kitt is missing." Joyce opened her mouth to speak but upon see Michael's pained expression she desided against it. "Sheriff Harris is waiting for me. I want to get this case wrapped up as soon as possible." With a final squeeze of her hand Michael left.  
  
Sheriff Harris was a heavyset man a bit taller then Michael. He stood up to greet the FLAG operative with a grim look on his face. "Michael, good that you could come on such a short notice. My deputy found the Chevy that Miss Brandon talked about. The trouble is it was reported stolen months ago by a local industrial millionaire. By the amount of dust on it I suspect the last time it was used was when Miss Brandon said she saw it. There where no prints, no nothing on that van to incriminate anyone. We thought John Myers was working for himself using the van to transport the funny money out of Staton, but he was hired for the job." Michael began leafing through the report Harris had handed him. "Who hired him?" Harris leaned back. "Now that's the tricky part. He doesn't know, so we don't know. He received his instructions by phone, and no. we haven't been able to trace the calls. He was to only print ones and fives, why he doesn't know. He obviously did know how to work the press even though he had never let anyone know he had that skill. Probably to get out of working the press here. He was supplied with the paper, plates and ink. He received his share in real money once a week. He never asked questions and the money just kept rolling his way. It was only when Miss Brandon started ´nosing around´ that he panicked, but just for a bit. As her boss, he convinced her that she was imagining things and thought she agreed with him. He was real careful not to leave any obvious clues around and caus' he was working there the fact that his prints where found there wasn't enough to convince us about it. There was just no proof for us to arrest him. It was just Joyce's word against his." Michael got up. "So you want me to find whoever is behind this money laundering? I think I'll start by going to see this millionaire you talked about. Mr Adler wasn't it. I'd like to know more about this Chevy of his..." Michael turned to leave when Sheriff Harris stopped him. "Michael, Mr Adler is a respected individual in this town and a long-time friend of mine. He wouldn't be involved in anything like this. Why would he need to launder money when he has tons of the real stuff?" "I didn't say he was involved. Just that his Chevy was." With those words Michael exited the office.  
  
Michael gave a low whistle. This place made the Knight mansion look middle class. To his surprise the gates were open and he was able to drive straight into the vast grounds. He parked the Mercedes next to the front door. And glanced at the dash. He just caught himself before he told the Mercedes to keep his scanner peeled. How he wished for Kitt again. Using an old fashioned loin-head knocker Michael pounded on the massive wooden door and waited.  
  
Inside the mansion Thomas Adler whirled at the knocking sound. He wasn't expecting anyone. In fact he was alone in his mansion. His regular butler being away to visit relatives. His heart pounding in his chest, Thomas quickly crossed his study to close a simple looking business style briefcase, full of five-dollar bills. Locking it he set it on the floor next to his working desk. Now nothing would look out of place. Then he went to see who was interrupting his daily business.  
  
A man in his mid forties opened the door. He was beginning to lose his hair and had reading glasses tucked in his front pocket. Sticking out his hand Michael asked "Mr Adler?" The other man's handshake was brief, but it was enough for Michael to realize that Mr Adler's palm was sweaty, a classic sign of nervousness. "My name is Michael Knight and I work for the Foundation for Law and Government. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind answering some questions about that Chevy that was stolen from you some time ago?" Adler's eyes darted behind Michael almost as to check if there were any other people with him. Satisfied that Michael seemed to have come alone and was on official business Adler opened the door wider. "Sure. Come on in. Can I get you anything?" He led Michael towards his study, the place clearly reserved for meeting visitors. "No, thank you, Mr Adler. If you could just tell me." Michael's gaze settled on the briefcase next to the desk and Thomas Alder followed his gaze. Swallowing hard Thomas realized that in his hast to close the case, half of a fiver had been left outside, and now this investigator had seen it! Thomas Adler was many things, but he wasn't a calm tempered man. He was no good at making up fast excuses and he knew it. Mostly he relied on extensive planning. He had no plan for this so he did the only thing he thought up: pulled out the small gun he always carried and pointed it at Michael. 


	13. Friends in Unlikely Places 13

Kitt accelerated after the semi. "I think it's time I went home." He told Andrea. She smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, Kitt. I'm glad I got to know you. Could you drop me off at some buss stop, so I can also go home?" Sniffling a yawn she continued, "I think it's time I got some sleep. By the way, where is home for you, Kitt?" Kitt's scanner pace quickened as he closed the gap between him and the semi. "Closer then you think, Andrea." With that Kitt brought back online all of his communications and tracking equipment.  
  
One by one screens lit up in the semi and information from the Knight Two Thousand flowed into the databanks. The two alarms that Bonnie had set up to tell her if Kitt was found sounded simultaneously and the wonderfully familiar hum of data being intercepted filled the semi. It was music to Bonnie's ears. Devon likewise looked up from his papers as they both heard the familiar sound of the semi's ramp lowering. With a hum of the turbine engine Kitt drove gracefully inside and stopped just short of Bonnie. The tension and stress of the last few days finally caught up with Bonnie as she sunk to her knees in front of Kitt. Laying her forehead against Kitt's prow she whispered "Thank God." Even Devon was so stunned to see Kitt he didn't notice the young woman behind the wheel.  
  
Andrea had gone white as a ghost. Being a cop she didn't scare easily, but she had been positive that they were going to crash into the big black semi. When the ramp had lowered and Kitt had driven inside the furnished semi she was sure she was dreaming. She had known this car was incredible, but she had no idea. Awed she watched a longhaired women kneel in front of Kitt and an elder distinguished looking gentleman come to lay a hand on the fender. Then the older man lifted is gaze from the scanner and gazed through the windshield. His smile faded as he noticed Andrea. He taped the woman who was still kneeling in front of Kitt and motioned at Andrea. The woman lifted her gaze and Andrea was shocked to see tears falling freely from her eyes. "They missed you." Was all she could think of to say. Reaching for the handle she opened the door.  
  
Devon was just about to ask who this woman was, but Bonnie beat him to it, "Who are you? What were you doing with Kitt?" Devon laid a calming hand on Bonnie's shoulder and stretched his other one over to Andrea. "My name is Devon Miles. Welcome to the FLAG mobile unit. I see you've already met Kitt. This is Ms Barstow, Kitt's technician." Andrea offered her hand to Bonnie who reluctantly shook it as well. She was not used to seeing Kitt show up with a complete stranger. Deciding to let Devon get the explanation from Andrea, Bonnie turned back to Kitt. "Pop the hood Kitt, I want to check you over. You had us worried to death!" The hood latches released and the hood rose silently. "I'm sorry, Bonnie. I just didn't, couldn't. Where's Michael?" Kitt had just realized that his partner wasn't in the semi. Kitt extended his search range but couldn't detect the comlink. Must be out of range. "Bonnie? Devon? Why isn't Michael here?" Andrea turned towards Kitt, "Is Michael your driver?" She was surprised when all three answered her, "YES!". Devon turned to Bonnie just as the diagnostics finished. "Does everything check out?" Leaning back against the driver's seat, where she had seated herself after hooking up some cables under Kitt's hood, Bonnie gave a sigh of relief. "There's some stress signs on the braking system, but that was to be expected, and some of the secondary fuel injection nods have overheated, but nothing serious. Kitt, did you run out of gas and try to ignitiate your engine with BOTH tanks empty?" Kitt responded by printing out a hardcopy of the diagnostic for Bonnie, "Yes. I'm sorry. I.wasn't thinking straight at the time." He finished meekly. He had noticed that both Bonnie and Devon had evaded his question about Michael. "Michael's comlink is out of range. Is he back in California?" Devon hit the intercom and opened a line to the semi's cab. "Turn us around. As you already know, we have Kitt. Next stop Staton, Arkansas." He received an, "Yes, sir Mr. Miles." and the semi started to slow down. Andrea spook up quickly, "Umm. could somebody tell me what's going on? Wait a minute! Arkansas!?!" Bewildered she looked from Devon to Bonnie. Devon held up a hand to silence her. Directing his words at Kitt, Devon said, "Kitt, Michael is on a case. He's tying up some loose ends on that Staton counterfeiting case that you were on. Bonnie will feed you the information. We're turning around to go and assist if needed." Turning to Andrea Devon re-offered his hand, "I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don't know the whole story Miss Montgomery, but I'm betting that you had something to do with returning Kitt? Unfortunately we can not take you home at the moment as we are urgently required elsewhere."  
  
Andrea seated herself on one of the sofas and took the coffee cup offered by Devon with a smile of thanks. She watched Bonnie fuss over the car with almost mother-like care and concern. She knew she had done the right thing by taking Kitt out of the impound. "That's alright Mr. Miles. I work as a state trooper and this is a rare weekend off. I don't have to be on the road until Monday. If it's okay with you, I'd like to come along. I've grown somewhat attached to Kitt and I'd really like to meet this Michael he talks so highly about." Sipping the rest of her coffee, she stood and walked over to Kitt. "Are you okay?" Kitt flashed his scanner twice, "I am concerned about Michael. I have processed the information Bonnie has downloaded. If this is more then a case of Mr Myers being greedy as it seems, then Michael could be in trouble. I am trying to contact him continuously." So this was the real Kitt, Andrea thought. Doing what he was designed to do. Working side by side with these others. Bonnie touched Andrea's shoulder and motioned for her to follow. She sat down next to Bonnie on the sofa and watched the other woman collect herself. "Since you're coming with us and there's nothing more to do until we get to Staton, I want to here the WHOLE story. Kitt's really important to me and it's not like him to disappear like this." Bonnie didn't need to go on. As the semi found a place to turn around, it headed back west at full power. In the back of it Andrea told Bonnie everything. "Why couldn't you and Harris just let the matter rest, Knight? Get your hands in the air and don't even contemplate anything! I'm a five-time champion marksman with this." Thomas Alder hated surprises. He didn't trust people and had found that if you wanted something done right you had to do it yourself. He had maintained his "friendship" with Harris merely for profitable reasons. Motioning with his weapon, he began to lead Michael through the maze of hallways and rooms in his mansion. "You had Myers. Myers had a motive for wanting to make some quick bucks, I know you know that the bank was close to getting his house." While he ushered Michael into one of the cellars, he figuratively kicked himself. Betrayed by a nosy press lady and a five-dollar bill! Opening the door of the cellar he gave the annoying federation-foundation-whatever snooper a shove. "Get inside! That basement's soundproof and bullet-proof. I do my practising down there. It'll be your new home.for now." Propelled by Alder's shove Michael fell down the steep steeps to the basement floor. Adler hadn't bothered to turn on the light so the basement was pitch black. Grimacing, Michael carefully hoisted himself off the floor. He was surprised that nothing seemed broken. Well, at least he now had a prime suspect who had incriminated himself! That was about the only bright point in this case. He still had no motive, but he certainly had the suspect, or should he say the suspect had him. Blindly he began to investigate his surroundings by touch. Damn it! He really missed Kitt now! 


	14. Friends in Unlikely Places 14

Bolting the basement door from the outside, Adler cursed again. Stupid Chevy. it was a lose end that shouldn't have been.he thought since he had reported it stolen. Well. More plans to be made. Thomas walked back to the study. He had moved the rest of the money. Even though it was just ones and fives over the months it had grown into quite an amount. One thing he was certain of, there would be more investigators. This Knight fella certainly wasn't working alone. Harris was slow and wouldn't suspect his friend. Adler smiled; being friends with the sheriff had its up-sides. He picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number. He had had quite enough of Staton Arkansas. There was a retirement condo bought with real money waiting in Switzerland. Alps and skiing two of his favourite things. So he couldn't deliver all of what had been expected, not a problem. His benefactors had been pleased; the sum that was lacking was inconsequential. If Knight had waited just two more days, Alder would have left the dust of the United States and the debts of his late father -whom had built the so-called Adler industry empire- behind him. Resorting to this funny money business had been for one reason and one reason only: to pay off people who his FATHER had owed money too. When his father had died of heart failure eight months ago two men whom Thomas had never seen came to see him demanding money. Now Thomas had never seen eye to eye with his old man but he had never known that his family was broke. The mansion.flying all over the world.women. all paid by borrowed money! Oh he had made his own in the years to come but had never paid the money that he had originally borrowed back. And now these people wanted their money back -with interest- from over twenty years. Or a favour. The kind of money they wanted. well Adler just didn't have it. so he choose the favour. It had seemed easy enough. They wanted false bills. They knew about the Staton press that still used the kind of technology that could be used to make the bills. They knew that Adler's father had been close with the man Harris who was now sheriff there and they knew that Thomas was also an acquaintance of Harris'. Thomas suspected that they wanted the funny money to smuggle drugs, but frankly he didn't care. In fact he had gotten to know and like the kind they called cocaine. His only interest was to be able to keep up the lifestyle he was used too. Run this little favour and he'd get to keep the millions that his father had made after he had originally loaned them or pay the billions his father now owed. The jet would be made ready. Now he only had to decide what to do with that Knight.  
  
Kitt knew that by taking off like he had done had caused a lot of worrying amongst those who cared about him. What he hadn't counted on was that Michael might be in serious trouble. Andrea had told Bonnie the entire story from her finding Kitt, to Kitt's pain at the child's death to them looking for a way to understand it. Bonnie had listened quietly and then said to Kitt that once they were back home, she too would go through it with Kitt. Every three seconds, Kitt tried to contact Michael. Then, just as they crossed the state border the comlink established contact.  
  
"Michael! Michael! Can you read me?" Michael jumped as Kitt's voice echoed through the comlink. "Kitt! It's so good to hear your voice, buddy!" The fact that Kitt was back overwhelmed Michael with a feeling of joy. Suddenly the fact that he was trapped in a cold dark basement, with a gunman outside didn't seem to matter. "Where have you been, pal? You've had me worried sick!" Kitt's reply was quiet "Humans will often take a walk to clear their minds. So I might say I had to take a drive to clear my memory. Where are you Michael? I am reading signs of gunfire. Michael are you alright?" The concern in Kitt's voice grew as he scanned Michael's surroundings via the comlink. "I'm fine for the moment. I'm in a basement that I've been told has been used for shooting practise. That'll explain the readings you're getting. Kitt, the man behind the counterfeiting if a millionaire called Thomas Adler. I figured it out kinda suddenly and he spooked. Can you get here? I'm willing to bet he's making plans to leave and. I need you, buddy."  
  
Andrea had just fallen asleep, Devon had returned to his papers and Bonnie had once again began to decipher the new code that hat written itself into Kitt's main program when Kitt's turbine engine hummed to life. "Bonnie! Disconnect the support cable at once. Michael is in trouble!" As Bonnie jumped to comply with Kitt's unusually harshly spoken order she nearly tripped over Andrea who jumped up from the couch. As Bonnie disconnected the cables from under Kitt's hood Andrea yanked open the driver's side door and sat down. Devon hardly ever raised his voice, but now it boomed over the sound of Kitt's engine, the semi's ramp lowering and the traffic: "Just where do you think you're going?!?" Andrea leaned out Kitt's open window and hollered back at Devon just as Kitt began to back out: "I'm going to see Michael!"  
  
Kitt backed out the moving semi and overtook it in one smooth movement. He didn't protest the fact that Andrea had decided to accompany him, but instead told her: "I have locked on to Michael's comlink. Give or take a few minutes we should be at his location in seven minutes." Andrea watched the scenery fly past. As she looked at the speedometer she gasped 267.268.269. and climbing. "I think I should write myself a citation." She muttered in astonishment. Kitt didn't respond, Michael was in trouble.  
  
The bolt slid out of place. Michael blinked as rays of light filtered down. "Mr Knight. I just thought I'd let you know, you'd better make yourself comfortable. I'm leaving for a -shall we say- very long vacation and nobody has to come look after the house, and if anyone did come. well this is soundproof so yell all you like. You know Mr Knight; I've never actually hurt a human being, at least not directly. And I'm not about to start now. Indirectly.well, you'll see. Goodbye, Knight." And the door closed again. "Kitt, do you read me buddy?" "Loud and clear, Michael." "Listen, forget about me for a moment. Adler is leaving, I don't know the kind of car he's in, but. "Say no more, Michael. I'm on it, I'm nearly there."  
  
Andrea held on for dear life as Kitt turned a 90-degree turn. She gasped as she saw an empty school bus turn around the corner. Kitt's only words were "Hold on." A button lit up in the dash: "Turbo Boost???" G-forces slammed Andrea into the seat as Kitt leap well clear of the bus and came down on the other side. Another 90-degree turn and they headed towards the double gates of what seemed to be like a huge castle. Even the gates were high, "Are we gonna jump that?" Kitt increased speed; "No, we are going to go through it." With a flash of sparks and the screech of breaking metal the Knight Two Thousand was inside the Adler estate grounds. A Cadillac limousine was just leaving when Kitt spun sideways in front of it. Microlocking the Caddy's doors effectively locked Thomas Adler inside. Ha panicked but was unable to do anything about it.  
  
Kitt scanned the mansion. He found Michael's comlink signature and detected the old wooden bolt keeping the door locked securely. Short of ploughing through half of the building Kitt decided he couldn't bud it. The police and the semi were both on their way but some time off. "Andrea, I need your help again. Michael is trapped in a basement near the middle of that mansion." Kitt printed a layout of the ground floor out. "There is an old wooden bolt used to keep the door looked. Can you." Andrea was already out of the car and running towards the door before Kitt could finish. She negotiated the map easily and within a minute slid the bolt back to revile a very surprised looking Michael Knight. He simply gaped at her and could think of nothing else to say then: "Who are you?" Andrea frowned, "What happened to 'Thank you for letting me out.'? I'm a friend of Kitt's if you must know. Now come on, he's waiting to see you outside." Michael hurried past Andrea and began to run, she hurried after him.  
  
Michael reached the door of the mansion and skidded to a stop. Kitt was still parked in front of the Cadillac from which Thomas Adler was still trying desperately to escape. Michael didn't even hear the sirens of the police or the hiss of the FLAG semi's airbrakes as he walked slowly to Kitt. Kitt's scanner flashed, "Michael, I'm sor." Michael laid a hand on Kitt's t-top. "Kitt, don't even say it! Don't say you're sorry for killing that girl. I was the one behind the wheel. I was the one who wanted to race in the first place. If there's anyone to blame." Kitt suddenly interrupted Michael, "Would you let me finish? I was going to say I'm sorry for taking off and leaving you in trouble. I guess I panicked. I did find a friend though; I now know that I don't have to run from this. It was an accident and something good already came out of it." Michael's smile was one of relief as he opened the door and sat down. "Apology excepted on that one then. Kitt, don't ever run from me again! It.scared the hell out of me." Relaxing for the first time in days Michael Knight closed his eyes and laid a hand on Kitt's wheel.  
  
Andrea stared at Kitt and his driver. Surprise filled her as she felt tears spring to her eyes. She wasn't a crier. Through her tears she smiled. Hearing footsteps behind her she glanced to her side as Devon approached. In the background Thomas Adler's furious voice was heard, "I'm innocent, I tell you! I was blackmailed! I've never hurt anyone! This is all my father's fault!" Then he turned to Michael and Kitt, "Noooo, it's all their fault, their.." As Sheriff Harris looked on one of his deputies pushed Adler into a patrol car, "Yeah, yeah, his fault, her fault, your fault, their fault, just not my fault. That's what they all say. We have hard evidence bud, now _move_ it!" Michael laughed at the young cop's words. Finally he turned towards Andrea, "I don't know how you did it, but thanks. You brought Kitt back and I can't begin to tell you how grateful I." He paused as Devon and Bonnie joined him, ".WE are. You might say you reunited a family this weekend." Smiling Andrea touched Kitt's hood. "It has been rather an eventful weekend. Keep in touch. Oh, and Michael you have yourself one hell of a partner. Take care of him." Kitt's scanner flashed calmly back and forth and he spoke just two words, "Thank you." Michael glanced at the voice box, "That about says it all, partner, that about says it all.  
  
The sun was setting, painting the horizon a canopy of colours. A lone black car travelled east. Moving at speeds unmatched by any other car on the highways. Behind the wheel sat one man with a mission. As the last few rays of sunshine reflected off of the black car, it leapt high into the air. One man, one car, together again; un-matched, undeterred, unafraid and unbeatable. For together they are: KNIGHT RIDER 


End file.
